


Stop, You Dastardly Alien!  Unhand That Man!  He's Mine!

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Weird But Beautiful [15]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alien Planet, Aliens, Attacks, Established Relationship, M/M, Mulberry Pie, Skunk Cabbage, Stinking, bad food, landing party, stomach upset, strange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29832372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: McCoy protects Spock from an alien attack.  But does Spock appreciate McCoy's heartfelt efforts?  McCoy isn't certain.But he's going to do his best to keep an unconscious Spock from getting raped by a stinking monster intent on doing just that very thing.
Relationships: Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Series: Weird But Beautiful [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761436
Kudos: 10





	Stop, You Dastardly Alien!  Unhand That Man!  He's Mine!

"Stop in the name of all that's holy!" Leonard McCoy snarled at the alien sweating over Spock's inert body lying facedown and unconscious in oozing, stinking muck of questionable origin. Spock and McCoy had been part of a landing party sent to explore a heaving and gelatinous planet that's primary vegetation seemed to be skunk cabbage, but smelled a whole lot worse-- if that was even possible.

As the Enterprise explorers had set out to explore various facets of this fascinating, but objectionable planet, Spock and McCoy had been separated from the others. Then they had been set upon by this ghastly space creature that seemed to have devious intentions toward Spock after a fall had knocked Spock unconscious. It was as though Spock's helplessness had spurred some sort of sexual stimulation loose in the alien and changed its attack from killing to intercourse.

McCoy did not know exactly how he knew that, he just did. Maybe it was something universal, but that slimy monster meant to have its way with Spock. And McCoy was just as determined that it wouldn't. He just didn't know how he would stop it.

"Hear me?!" McCoy roared. "Stop it!"

The three-armed beast that McCoy was addressing wasn't having much luck in his attack, though. Its three arms wanted to go in three different directions as it was trying to stroke Spock's neck while endeavoring to pull Spock's pants down all in one swoop. The third arm didn't really know what to do with itself, but flung around uselessly in the foul-smelling air.

McCoy should've been afraid for himself. Self-preservation is a mighty powerful urge. Or at least he should have been afraid for Spock. Instead, he was more indignant than anything, and that probably came from the ineptness of the horrible monster messing with Spock.

"Stop it, I say! What in the hell has he ever done to you anyway?!" McCoy wanted to know as he hoped to distract the alien in its evil plans. "That's my friend you've got pinned down there! In fact, he's more than my friend! And I don't want him to get hurt! Or messed with in an obscene manner!" McCoy challenged. "And I think that's your intentions, seeing the sorry state you're in and all!"

That last part hadn't come as guesswork from McCoy, but from observation of the monster itself. And it wouldn't take a doctor to realize what the monster meant to do with its erect and waving penis. It intended for Spock to be its next conquest.

"Damnit! Stop!" McCoy ordered with a stern and darkening brow. He didn't want to touch the alien's body to thwart it. It looked about as appealing to feel as scooping up some of the heaving slime and muck at his feet.

Apparently the monster didn't know what McCoy's stern face meant or it seemed to have other ideas, because it just kept fiddling with Spock's body and clothing. The thought passed through McCoy's mind that the alien might not have opposable thumbs, and that was why it was having trouble getting a good grip on Spock.

Then a claw got lucky, and McCoy heard material rip on the neckline of Spock's tunic. Stuff was getting serious now! Time to touch the slimy alien!

McCoy grabbed one of the squishy forearms and fought back a rising nausea. "Hey! Stop it! He's mine!"

That got the alien's attention. It shook off McCoy's hand, and that might have easy for it to do because McCoy didn't want to hold onto that pasty mess any longer than possible.

"Go away!" the alien shot back. "This is my prey! Go find your own!"

McCoy knew that he was going to have to be pretty clever with his diversions, so he decided to see if the alien had any principles. Just because it looked like a slimeball did not mean that it was uncivilized. McCoy mentally shrugged. What the hell? At this point, it couldn't hurt.

"That isn't being fair!" McCoy declared with all of the indignity that he could muster sounding in his bellowing voice and showing in his outraged face.

"So?!" the alien demanded back. "What does being fair have to do with anything?"

"You can't attack a man when he's down!" McCoy continued. "That's not even sporting!"

The alien stopped and gulped air as it glared at McCoy and thought things over. It seemed to have a sinus problem and couldn't breathe out of its nose despite having four flaring nostrils. Maybe it just couldn't stand its own stinking, sweating self, though, or its stinking, skunk cabbage planet and was trying desperately to find a sniff of good air somewhere. "There are rules of sportsmanship for this sort of thing, Earthling?"

"Rape? Let's call it what it is, okay?" McCoy answered hesitantly, since he was pretty certain that was the issue on the table here. If not, he sure didn't want to give this lumbering oaf any ideas. "Well, yeah, I suppose. For starters, you ain't supposed to do it. Not if the other person hasn't given consent."

"The other person is entitled to decline?" the alien asked in amazement.

McCoy crossed his fingers behind his back. "Well, yeah." This alien was learned in some respects, but really stupid in others. But McCoy supposed he might seem the same way to the alien and with holes in his knowledge, also.

"But what if I want to do it?" the alien challenged reasonably. "What if I am ready to do the act?" It nodded reasonably at its penis throbbing and leaking pre-cum from between its massive legs.

"Well, just because you want to do it is no sign that you will get to do it. Things just don't happen that way. Or that fast. You have to buy him supper first," McCoy blurted, grasping at straws. It wasn't as if he had to be using logic, as he always had to do with Spock. This ugly space creature seemed to have a set of standards, though, and McCoy seemed to have accidently stumbled onto them. All McCoy had to do was to use the creature's reasoning against itself.

"Supper? What would that entail?" the creature wanted to know.

McCoy answered with what would win him over, not Spock. But the creature had no way of knowing that. "You'll need to provide steaks," McCoy instructed. "Thick, rich, juicy, bloody steaks. The rarer the better. That's what will turn a man's head and heart to your cause. A man will do just about anything for a good steak, and that's a fact."

"Steaks?" the alien echoed as his penis began to flag a little. He had not realized that taking a foreign intruder's virtue would be this difficult or this involved, but he wanted to do this thing correctly. He was not a heathen according to the mores of his society, even if these intruders were.

"Yeah. Steaks. With grilled onions and mushrooms. Lots of grilled onions and mushrooms. With a twice baked potato on the side. And a big bowl of hot peach cobbler with praline ice cream melting down inside it." He'd added the dessert as a salute to the South. Any meal was better with peach cobbler in it. Even a good steak dinner with all the trimmings.

"Why so specific?" the alien wanted to know as he was having second thoughts about the whole affair. He was beginning to think that hunting georaffs or gangerpusses would be more fun and a whole lot less trouble. "Does this one consume large quantities of foodstuffs on a regular basis? I am beginning to think that he is very high maintenance."

"Him? Nah. The steaks are for me. He's vegetarian. He could probably get along grazing out in one of your pastures, I expect. As long as there's something like alfalfa to nibble on, he'd be as happy as a piano player with a new tune to learn. Me, I'm the high maintenance one. Be happy that you didn't take me on. I'm crabby as hell, too. Just ask my lover. As soon as he comes around, he can tell you about what a pain in the ass I can be." McCoy thought that one over. "He can be a pain in the ass, too. But probably not in the same way that we're talking about now. Probably what you're intending for him, though. Whatever, I'm hanging around for what happens next. I've got kind of a vested interest in what happens to him."

"Who? This one? You are going to watch what I will do to him once I can get this cloth skin down off his tempting loins?"

"Yeah. I might learn some pointers." And figure out how to stop things before the Big Event actually takes place, too.

"You are odd," the alien decided with a frown of thought on its craggy countenance that must pass for a face on its planet.

"And yet I'm not the one with one arm too many when it comes to trying to get something done in the romance department," McCoy answered with satisfaction. Then something floated into his consciousness, something elusive that he'd been trying to grab onto for the last several moments, and now he was starting to sort things out a little bit better. If what he was beginning to suspect was true, it would explain how the alien had a fine command of the English language and knew how to converse on the level of an educated person.

McCoy decided to test his new theory as he started to speak once more, but this time with more assurance.

"And maybe my feeling of superiority will make up for that slice of mulberry pie that must've been on the last stages of spoiling when I spotted it in that shop on shore leave. Spock warned me about it, but I insisted on eating it anyway. He said he was suspicious about its wholesomeness. But would I listen? Oh, hell, no! Not me! I wanted mulberry pie, because it reminded me of the Deep South! And now he's gonna say that he told me so. He said that I would only regret consuming it. And do you know what?! He was right! Because it caused consequences! I got visited by you!"

The creature look aghast. "Then I have no real powers? No real lusts? I am just a figment of your vivid imagination and have been brought about by a bout of indigestion?"

"Seems like it. So, begone! Off with you now and leave decent folks alone." McCoy waved the creature away with his fingertips as if the ugly thing was nothing more than a few harmless motes of dust. Or an upset stomach visited upon a guy who had eaten something tainted and slightly past its best eatable date.

The alien burst into tears at its own unimportance. "Why?! Why?! Why did this have to happen to me?!"

"Oh, shut up," McCoy commanded. "I'm getting tired of hearing from you. Go away!"

The monster disappeared in a puff of greenish smoke as its innards went splashing every which way over a scowling McCoy and the inert Spock.

Then the putrid, gelatinous planet disappeared, too, and McCoy discovered that the fetid stink he was smelling was on his own breath.

McCoy felt a surge of apprehension flash through him. Now he was in for it. For in a moment he would be awake. And so would Spock.

Then there would be all sorts of hell to pay.

McCoy almost wished that the stinking, three-armed monster and its foul-smelling planet was coming back instead.

"Leonard! What are you doing?!" Spock complained as he tried to get away from McCoy's iron grip as they lay together in their bed aboard the Enterprise. The only trouble was that their positions were reversed, and McCoy was spooning Spock instead of the normal other way around. "Stop it! Are you vomiting on me?!"

"Nah. That's just drool," McCoy managed to answer. "The main stuff is being held back. But it's churning away, trying to decide which way to go first. And to be honest with you, neither seems like a good option at the moment. But I have a feeling that in the very near future, I'm not gonna have much control of what happens. Because when something's gotta give, something's gotta give. And Heaven help anything in its immediate path. Because it ain't gonna be too selective about which direction it takes."

"Well, do not aim it for me!" Spock announced as he scrabbled to get away from McCoy's grasp, but with little success. "I am not in the mood to be the recipient of anything so gross. And speaking of something gross, why are you jabbing me with your thumb between my buttocks?! That is most disconcerting! And most vulgar!"

"That's not my thumb," McCoy informed him with a happy smile. It was the first thing to go his way since this whole weird sequence had started and that made him happy.

Spock pulled away with disgust. "Why are you trying to mount me then?! Did we not engage in enough sex before retiring?! I thought that I surely had satisfied you for at least a week. You can be such a glutton!"

"Gonna get you one way or the other before the alien does!" McCoy gasped out, trying to hold back the hot mulberry muck in his mouth before he spewed it out all over Spock's naked back. The mass had suddenly made a decision to exit McCoy's stomach, and McCoy did not know how long he could fight it down.

"What alien?! What are you talking about?!"

"Hold that thought!" McCoy yelled as he jumped from the bed and ran for the bathroom. "Can't explain now! No time!"

When he returned, shaken and white from his stomach cleansing, Spock was waiting for him with some hot weak tea and a few saltine crackers that were a bit on the stale side but still eatable.

"No more mulberry pie for you for awhile, Leonard," Spock announced with a grim face. "Now get to sleep so I can."

"I suppose you're gonna be all pissy about this little incident," McCoy mumbled as he sipped at the tea he'd been given.

"What do you think?" Spock pronounced, acting like he'd been the one to teach Puritan ministers how to act stern in the American colonies.

"How can you act like that?! And after all I did for you!" McCoy snapped, feeling defensive and indignant. "That alien was gonna strip you naked and have his way with you! And I saved you from a fate worse than death!"

"How? By vomiting on him?"

"Never gonna let that one go, are you?!"

"Would you?" Spock grimaced. "Go back to bed, Leonard. We both need our sleep."

"I want to finish my tea first."

"Alright." 

Spock lay on his side away from McCoy and quieted. McCoy watched him and finally drained the teacup. Then he snuggled against Spock's back in a protective manner just in case the alien was waiting for them when they went back to sleep again.

Spock must've had similar thoughts, because he finally murmured, "Thank you for defending me, Leonard."

A gentle smile drifted across McCoy's face as he snuggled closer to his Vulcan's body.

"It was the least I could do," McCoy murmured back. "Seeing as how sound asleep you were and defenseless and all."

He put his hand on the bony hip jugging up in front of him.

“Leonard, move you hand, please. Or whatever that is.”

McCoy was insulted, but he removed his hand anyway. “Are you gonna start in again with the small penis jokes?”

“What I felt was not a joke. I do not do stand-up comedy.”

“Tell me about it,” McCoy retorted with a sigh.

“Leonard, we will be too exhausted tomorrow to perform at our peak efficiencies if we do not get sufficient rest now.”

“You don’t worry about your peak efficiency at night,” McCoy grumbled.

“That is because I do quite satisfactory work in bed.”

“Oh, yeah?! How do you know about that for sure?!” McCoy demanded.

“Unsolicited glowing testimonials,” Spock murmured in contentment. “My mate is very adamant about reassuring me of my prowess in that area. In fact, he has even compared me to all the gods which have ever lived and some who exist only in fable.”

“Well, yeah, I can’t argue that point,” McCoy conceded. "You've got a satisfied consumer here for sure."

“Good night, Leonard,” Spock said firmly and composed himself for sleep again.

McCoy studied Spock’s back, then snuggled closer against it. Spock seemed to allow that. At least he wasn’t rejecting McCoy’s nearness. So McCoy grew bolder, reached around Spock, and cupped his manhood snugly in his hand.

Ah! Now to sleep!

But Spock shifted as if he’d been electrified. “Leonard--”

“What? Don’t tell me that you object to that?!”

“We rest now,” Spock insisted.

But the stirrings of Spock's penis in McCoy’s sheltering hand was telling McCoy something quite different about the state of Spock’s body and what it really wanted to do instead of sleeping.

Spock looked back over his shoulder at McCoy and said in hopeless surrender, “You have a devil in you, Doctor. Did you know that?”

McCoy gave him an evil grin of triumph. “No, Commander, it’s a devil that I want BACK in me.”

“Then will you be satisfied?” Spock asked with a sigh as he turned to face McCoy.

“For awhile,” McCoy murmured as his eyes roamed hungrily and happily over the person he loved so well. “Then I might have to wake you up again.”

“That is what I feared.” He hooked McCoy’s head with his elbow and pulled McCoy’s face closer to his. “How long before our honeymoon period is over?” Spock asked wearily.

“Oh, about another twenty years or so, I reckon.”

Spock’s dark eyes were twinkling by this time, and McCoy figured that the Vulcan wasn’t as put out as he was acting. “Then what happens, Doctor?”

“Why, I figure that’s when the second honeymoon starts.”

“I figure that sounds about right, also,” Spock murmured as he pulled McCoy’s mouth down to his and forgot about getting much sleep for the rest of the night.

Let Kirk think that they went at it like sex-starved, rutting heathens for hours.

Because sometimes they actually did.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its storylines.


End file.
